


Would twenty percent be enough?

by MariaPurt



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 05:16:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14927837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariaPurt/pseuds/MariaPurt
Summary: "Sometimes we have to make tough decisions to protect those who are dear to us," Marcus quietly whispers in her ear and puts his hand on her wet forehead.





	Would twenty percent be enough?

**Author's Note:**

> It started off as a drabble within AU about grounder Kane and a fanfiction called 'Hostage' but the more I think about it, the more it makes sence in canon too.

It's bad.

She knows it's bad the moment she wakes up, because regardless of how much painkillers they've given her, she feels her body being torn apart. It takes Abby a few moments to really open her eyes. She breathes in, holds it and then breathes out only to cry when sharp pain hits her. 

Her body's broken. Her mind is still back in the cage, her ribs are being punched, her leg drilled and old rusty handcuffs are still digging into her wrists as she hangs a few inches above the ground. She knew if she ever survived, she'd probably regret it. She knows now she was right because it's an agony with no end. 

It takes them three days full of her suffering, crying and screaming to realize just how bad her condition is. And it's getting worse, the grounder healers tell Marcus one morning. Her wrists are beyond repair, and infection is spreading from the injuries.

* * *

"Abby!" Kane grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her slightly hoping to get through hysteria. She's still choking on tears, furiously biting her lips and repeating "Please don't" as if it's a prayer. "Abby," Marcus repeats in an unexpectedly calm voice, and this seems to have much more effect - her hysteria recedes, and in the reddened eyes there is a glimce of clarity. Marcus leans to her face so close that his breath slides over wet skin. "Answer this as a doctor." His voice sounds tough, and Abby involuntarily flinches. She knows both the question itself and the answer, which - the only true one - she will be able to give. Deep down she pleads with Marcus to remain silent, to not ask her anything, but he continues, "What are the chances that infection can be suppressed?"

"Less than twenty percent," she lets out softly, barely opening her mouth, and then starts a tirade that sometimes five percent might be enough. "Sometimes hope is all that is needed," she breathes deeper and deeper, then pauses, staring at Marcus' face and then at the grounder healers standing at a distance. "Please, Marcus, give me a chance. I'm a doctor, I can't live without..." Abby doesn't have courage to finish the sentence just like she lacks courage to even try imagining her life without hands.

"If your daughter, Clarke, lay in front of you, would you take that chance?" Straightening, Kane passes his fingers over the belts tightened under her breasts. Abby breathes so deep that it seems leather strips are about to break her ribs. "Would twenty percent be enough for her?"

Closing her eyes tightly, Abby shakes her head, tears flow down the temples with every movement. It's pointless to lie to Marcus - he already knows the answers, he only wants her to accept them, but she can't.

Stepping to a side and taking place at Abby's head, Marcus nods to the healers. They bow their heads in response and approach the stretcher. Abby tries to escape again, desperately fighting the belts strapping her body down. She coughs, knowing what's coming next and still not being ready to accept it. She knows he'll stay here the whole time and only hates him for that even more. This hate hurts almost as badly as her skinned wrists and ribs because it's mixed with love, and anger, and hope and...

"Please, Marcus."

"Sometimes we have to make tough decisions to protect those who we care about," Marcus quietly whispers in her ear and puts his hand on her wet forehead. "You can hate me for this, but you'll stay alive. And you will remain a doctor... Begin the procedure."


End file.
